That day of July

It happened on such a wonderful summer day in July,
Searching in a place foreign to my life, your lost love,
Which I haven't found anywhere else in other known places,
And that disarmed me from my deep feelings of love;
The sadness of the one who once loved a beautiful girl like you.

Listening to the wonderful sounds of birds which caress my soul,
Which reminded me of your great love for me, but already past,
I straightened up with hesitant steps,  and so terrified of loneliness,
Towards a shore, a shore so far away, with its fascinating sun,
Only and only by me known in my soul suffering after you.

At these sad moments of self, hearing the birds singing,
They filled my soul with much, much suffering and resignation,
Which went through my whole body like a great and indisputable tragedy,
Like a hurricane unfolding bleakness, sadness and imbalance,
What only the one who loses love still knows it...a lorn man of destiny!

I  wait in silence on this shore, a desert that sadden my mind,
I sit looking out to the sea, remembering you as you once were,
About your hot love story for me, now abandoned for another one,
Of my many tears that filled my cheeks, losing yourself forever,
And I die slowly with every moment elapsed in this roar of the sea.

This my dead love story for you, a great disillusionment,
Which has devastated my soul by my love that believed in you.
But this poor man feeble now, lying on a self's shore and looking,
To the wide, to the infinite, prays to be his soul disfigured resurrected,
In his moments of solitude, fears and too late contemplation of sorrow.